


Mint Chocolate Chip

by Cee693



Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, F/M, Fluff, Mild Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-30
Updated: 2017-01-30
Packaged: 2018-09-20 23:24:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,103
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9520646
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cee693/pseuds/Cee693
Summary: Barry and Iris try to find as many different ways as they can to eat through a freezer full of ice cream after a shopping trip goes awry.





	

When Ben and Jerry's unveiled a new flavor of ice cream that the founders hoped would shine a light on systemic racism and create a dialogue on bridging communities, Barry and Iris would be the first to admit, they'd gone a little overboard.

The plan had been to just pop in and out and pick up a pint after a night out celebrating Iris's birthday.

They themselves were quick to support the movement and the new flavor happened to be the exact one Barry and Iris ate as a tradition together on their birthdays every year since they were ten.

But, the plan of buying a simple pint was squashed when they encountered a fellow shopper in the freezer section that made an off-handed, ignorant remark about better ways to spend company resources than "race-baiting."

Barry and Iris didn't even really share more than a look before Barry pushed their cart as close into the freezer as it could go and Iris swept every single pint of Empower Mint ice cream on the shelf, into their shopping cart.

They both shot the gentleman less than genuine smiles and, after paying for and bagging over 20 cartons of ice cream, walked out of the store with their heads a little higher.  


Until they got home and realized they'd have to eat it all.

"Well, at least it's our favorite flavor," Barry said optimistically, scooping out some ice cream for their movie night. "The birthday tradition can live on for a few weeks."

Iris's stomach clenched in dread, but she couldn't very well turn back now. "Yeah, should be fun," she said flashing him a smile and sending up a prayer that this wouldn't in fact turn out to be the worst few weeks of her life.

After a week, Barry and Iris wished they'd thought out buying an entire shelf of ice cream in the middle of January no less. She didn't say, but Barry could tell Iris immediately had no patience for the sudden lack of space in the freezer.

She had to take out every container of ice cream every time she wanted something from the freezer and, after a week of trying to put a dent in the stash, she was sure if someone were to peek inside of her, her organs would be dyed green and her blood would taste like mint.

And it wasn't just their freezer that took on the burden of too much dessert.

S.T.A.R Labs’ kitchen had enough ice cream to feed the metahumans prisoners for days, they'd donated what little the food pantry would even accept and Joe had threatened bodily harm if Barry tried to sneak one more pint into his freezer during Sunday dinners.

Instead of getting discouraged, however, the journalist and the scientist decided to put their big brains together and come up with easy ways to consume their stash.

 

_~1. Ice cream bread.~_

"That sounds _horrific",_ Barry said.

"It's not," Iris assured him. "I've seen a bunch of Pinterest recipes for it."

"I don't know," he said, rummaging in their closet for a cardigan.

"Come on, it'll be fun to try something different. And the recipe I found will knock out two whole pints of ice cream. We'd be down to 10," Iris said.

"Fine," Barry conceded. He thought it was a bad idea, but he didn't want to do anything to crush Iris's excited smile.

Mostly because she'd been upset with him since the night before and, though he didn't even know what he did to set her off in the first place, he'd do anything to ensure her sour mood was passed.

"I'll try it after work," he promised.

Iris smiled. "Perfect."

 

This is _not_ perfect, Iris thought. 

She'd come home from work earlier than expected and had tried to get a start on the ice cream bread to surprise Barry with.

Barry always handled anything that had to do with baking sweets or desserts of any kind.

Iris was good at cooking actual meals.

Foods that could be tasted and seasoned and altered as she went along.

But, anything that required her measuring out ingredients together and letting it cook on faith, usually just ended in trays of salty cookies or rock-hard bread or soupy soufflés, no matter how stricty she followed the recipe.

But, she wanted tonight to be different. One, because she was in a very rare baking mood, but mostly as a subtle apology for giving Barry the silent treatment the last 24 hours.

Actually if she were being honest, she'd been giving it to him the last few days. It was only the day before that he finally asked her why she was so upset with him.

And her face heated with embarrassment over the fact that she actually couldn't even remember what he'd done to warrant such behavior.

So, she planned a nice dinner to alleviate any tension left and, questionable baking skills aside, she thought she was doing pretty well.

Until their demon stand mixer had somehow turned on on its own, showering Iris and the counter tops in a spray of flour and sugar. This then caused Iris to back into the open carton of milk which spilled all over the floor.

She'd managed to get back on track and start over, but now she was running behind. She hadn't started their actual dinner and that was _definitely_ Barry's keys at the door, wasn't it?

Barry shuffled into the house praying that Iris had a reason to put on a piping hot pot of coffee tonight.

He felt dead on his feet after a full day of double duty as a CSI and the Flash.

He didn't know what was causing the sudden spike in crime throughout the city, but it felt as if all the criminals within a 30 mile radius had all decided that January would be the month to wreak havoc every second of every day.

And Barry was exhausted.

All he wanted was to eat a nice warm meal, curl up with Iris and sleep until winter passed.

But, he knew he couldn't.

He had responsibilities and obligations.

The most-pressing of which was finding out why his house smelled like a heavy mixture of _seriously_ burnt cookies and Grandma Esther's chicken  marinade.

He closed the front door behind him and tossed his keys in their dish before slowly making his way to the kitchen.

He was already apprehensive of what he'd see, but when he entered the kitchen he stopped in his tracks.

It looked like a small tornado, no two tornadoes had run through their kitchen.

"Whoa," he said, looking at Iris who was leaning over the counter, trying to assemble their Kitchen Aid that'd somehow fallen apart. "Hi," he said slowly.

"Hi, baby," Iris greeted, blowing escaped tendrils of hair out of her face. She gave up on the mixer and leaned against the granite top. "Sorry about the mess."

"That's okay," Barry said. He set down his bag on the tiny patch of floor that wasn't covered in flour or sugar or what looked like a mysterious, yellow liquid and went to give her a kiss. "I thought I was going to do the baking tonight."

"I thought I'd surprise you. Dessert's already baking and I'm about to put the chicken in the oven," she said.

"That's great," Barry smiled a little uneasily. "Need any help?"

He looked towards the oven and saw that it was still on. Did Iris really not smell that whatever she was baking was burning?

"Nah, I think I got it. Hopefully everything is actually edible," Iris joked.

Barry chuckled weakly. After a while, he couldn't wait any longer and grabbed an oven mitt.

"I'm just gonna," he said gesturing towards the oven. Sure enough, when he opened it, a small wave of smoke greeted him.

Barry walked the pan over to the counter and Iris looked at its blackened contents. "Crap! How did that happen? It's only been in for 20 minutes."

"I don't know," Barry shrugged. "Maybe the oven was too high?"

Iris frowned and slouched on a stool.

"On the bright side, at least the fire alarms didn't go off this time. Especially since you promised the fire department you wouldn't try baking anymore," Barry joked, trying to make her laugh.

But, Iris just looked at him in disbelief before scoffing in anger.

"You really act like an ass sometimes," she said, upset.

She angrily tossed the dish towel on the counter and went and turned off the oven.

Barry was taken aback. "Iris, I was just joking."

"No. You're right anyway, it most likely would've tasted like dirt," she huffed.

Barry frowned, "I didn't mean-" 

"We can't all be perfect like you," Iris interrupted sarcastically. "I'll just leave all the baking to you how you like it.

_What the hell?_

"Okay, I was just making a joke. I'm sorry I hurt your feelings, but you don't need to bite my head off over it," Barry said in frustration. Clearly Iris's inexplicable bad mood was still raining over her, but he was too  exhausted to try and placate her temper tonight.

"And anyway, you're the one who managed to set a banana crème pie on fire last month, so excuse me if I'm a little apprehensive about you in the kitchen for dinner."

Okay, _that_ was him being an asshole, but he was annoyed. Iris's mood had started becoming unpredictable as of late. They could be laughing one minute at her own self-deprecating humor and if Barry laughed too hard or didn’t immediately jump to reassure her, she'd suddenly snap at him and call him a jerk. It wasn't even just him making jokes, recently it seemed like he couldn't cough too loudly or sing a song or even chew his food a certain way without her suddenly wanting to bite his head off.

She'd always apologize after a minute, but Barry was getting tired of the back and forth.

Iris stared at him in shock before she grabbed a tiny pinch of flour in a bowl and flicked it in Barry's face. "There. You can have _that_ for dinner instead."

Barry completely lost his patience. He didn't know what was up, but almost a week of Iris's mood swings and he was totally fed up. He didn't like coming home and feeling like he had to walk on eggshells. _Especially_ around Iris who, after all these years together, he still called his best friend.

And, yes, work and Flash duties had been running him down even more, so he couldn't really be blamed for picking up some flour and flicking it right back in her face.  


Iris gasped. "Are you freaking serious, Barry?!" She asked angrily, spitting out some that had landed in her mouth.  


"You don't get to throw crap in my face and then get mad when I do the same thing to you," Barry said, angrily "What's going on with you, Iris? What’s your problem?"  


"My problem is that I tried to do something nice for you and it didn't take you two seconds to shit all over it," she said, picking up a spoon of sugar.  


"Don't," Barry warned her angrily, grabbing a spoon of his own and scooping up some ice cream that was in a mixing bowl. "We always laugh about your cooking. You literally just made a joke _5 minutes ago!_ So why the hell is everything I do suddenly a huge offense to you?" 

He pointed at the spoon in her hand. "Put that down and we can talk like adults."

She gestured to his hand. "Drop yours first."

He glared at her and she glared right back, unflinching.

"I'll drop mine if you drop yours. You started this," he told her firmly.

Iris rolled her eyes. "I count to three and we both drop it," she said slowly.

"Fine."

And neither was really surprised when Iris only got to two and they both flicked their spoons at the other.  


The battle lines were drawn fairly quickly, Barry finding a cover near the pantry and Iris rushing to the fridge to find the least air - resistant food.  


Barry was surprised by Iris's strong arm as most of what she threw at him met its mark. He may have cheated and used his super speed to perfectly land some chocolate chips into her hair.  


And if one of them was waiting for the other to buckle and start laughing, neither cared. 

They were both serious, aiming and throwing any piece of food in their reach, yelling angrily when their opponent's shots made contact.  


This went on way longer than the otherwise loving and mentally stable couple would ever care to admit.  


Until Iris slipped in a puddle of almond milk. And Barry dropped the bottle of barbecue sauce he was unscrewing to save her.  


But, his super speed hadn't really helped him avoid the puddle himself and they both went crashing to the floor.  


Barry was up before Iris could even register the pain, scooping her up and speeding her to the couch.  


"Are you okay?" He asked, worried.  


"Yeah, I'm fine," she assured, wincing at the throbbing in her elbow.  


"You hit the floor really hard. I'm sorry I tried to help- _shit!_ You're bleeding."  


Barry frantically gestured to her forehead and Iris was a little confused since she'd landed on her butt when they fell.  


She gingerly touched her temple and felt a sticky liquid on her fingertips.  


"Oh," she chuckled. "I'm pretty sure that's strawberry jelly."  


"Oh," Barry said relaxing. He shuffled his feet and stuffed his sticky hands in his pockets.  


And they were surrounded by an awkward silence as they both took in their appearances. 

A giant glob of what looked like vanilla yogurt sitting on Barry's shoulder very slowly made its way down his arm and plopped unceremoniously at his feet.  


Barry made a pitiful sound when he saw it'd gotten mostly on his shoes.  


And Iris never laughed as unexpectedly or as hard in her life.  


Barry's eyes grew wide in surprise, but it didn't take long for him to join in. And Iris's laughter was only exacerbated by the lone slice of kiwi in Barry's hair that jiggled with his shaking body.  


Barry reached down and carefully pulled some lettuce out of her hair and before he pulled away, Iris pulled off a cherry that'd gotten lodged in his sweater sleeve.  


"I'm sorry," Iris said softly once her laughter died down some.  


"No, it's my fault. I overreacted," Barry said once he caught his breath.  


"No, I'm pretty sure that was me," she said.  


"Maybe we shouldn't speak of this again," Barry suggested. “Like to anyone. Ever.”  


Iris wiped away some cinnamon off her cheek and looked up at him. “Yes, deal.”  


Barry looked down at her and was mystified at how she could still be so beautiful with a marshmallow stuck to her chin and cottage cheese in her hair.  


Suddenly the egg timer Iris had set went off. A beat passed and Iris literally snorted, grabbing her stomach as she fell back into the couch, laughing all over again.  


Barry sighed and wiped his eyes before heading towards the disaster that was their kitchen. "I'll go get some takeout menus."  


_~2. Sunday sundaes~_  


Barry set his bowl of ice cream down and looked up to see Iris walking back into the living room, firmly tightening her robe around her waist.  


"Oh, come on," Barry said sadly. "You didn't even last an hour."  


"Naked Sundays were a great idea when it was 100 degrees outside and our A/C was broken. Not so much when it's 20 degrees and we're eating ice cream. I'm _freezing,_ Barry," Iris said.  


"The heat is on, the fireplace is on, it's nice and warm in here," Barry told her.  


"I'm good like this," she said. "And you can have my ice cream." She sat back down next to him on their brand new couch (evidently, chocolate syrup and strawberry jelly didn't really wash out too well with the last one.)  


Barry tsked, but he picked up the remote and un-paused the movie they were watching.  


After a few minutes, his hand brushed against her thigh so softly, Iris wasn't sure she hadn't imagined it.  


But, then he did it again. Ghosting the back of his hand so lightly against her knee and up her thigh, she felt goosebumps appear in its wake. 

Iris shifted and Barry brought his arm over the back of the couch.  


And Iris waited to feel his hand on her shoulder, but it never came. Instead she felt the heat of his fingertips centimeters away from her skin, creating a tiny spark and making the back of her neck feel warm.  


Iris shifted again and leaned into Barry more. She shivered as she tried to remember if his chest had always felt this strong and warm.  


"Are you still cold?" Barry whispered in her ear in a voice that was too low and raspy.  


"A little," Iris said. Though that was a lie. She was feeling real hot all of the sudden.  


Barry ran his hand up and down her arm before hovering by her waist.  


And that continued for a while- Barry lightly touching or almost touching a part of her body, Iris shifting towards it only to have it chase away.  


God, why wasn't he touching her? And why did it feel like every nerve ending she had was lighting up just from nothing?  


Now Iris was starting to regret grabbing her robe.  


"I think the heat just started kicking in," Iris said finally, pulling on the collar of her silk robe to get some cool air.  


Barry made a non-committal sound, seemingly engrossed in the movie.  


But, Iris stole a glance at him and saw he couldn't even contain the smug grin on his face.  


He knew what he was doing.  


His hand sneaked along her waist, finally coming to rest on her stomach.  


Iris's breath hitched.  


And Barry looked down at her. "Still cold?"  


"Maybe I'm not _so_ cold," she smiled.  


Barry grinned knowingly and put a hand on the knot of her sash. "So I could..." he trailed off slowly pulling the knot until it came apart.  


Iris didn't wait to pull him down and kiss him roughly.  


Barry leaned her back on the couch, undoing her robe completely and bringing a hand to caress her breast while he kissed her neck.  


Iris groaned softly, but it sounded more painful than enjoyable.  


Barry broke away and leaned back to look at her. "Just a little sore," Iris explained, putting a hand on her chest.  


"Did these get bigger overnight?" Barry asked amazed, catching a full glimpse of her breasts for the first time.  


"I'm pretty sure a few walnuts hit my boobs during... the incident," Iris said. "They're a little painful."  


"Geez, I'm really sorry, Iris," Barry said, contrite.  


She waved him off and hungrily captured his lips with hers. "It's fine, just not too hard." 

Barry nodded and grabbed a pillow that was in their way, tossing it to the side to get more comfortable.

It hit one of their ice cream bowls on the table and the clanking dish suddenly gave him an idea.

Barry grinned at Iris and told her to meet him upstairs. Then he sped into the kitchen, grabbed some chocolate syrup, a pint of ice cream, and some candles and sped up to their bedroom in a flash.

 

_~Moments of truths~_  


"I'm sorry, baby. Maybe that's not the best meal to see first thing in the morning," Barry said. 

He rubbed Iris’s back as she groaned and spit out the mouth wash she was gargling. She wiped her mouth and kept her toothbrush and ran a hand through her frazzled hair.  


Minutes before, Iris had entered the kitchen, took one look at the waffles and ice cream Barry had laid out for breakfast and barely made it to the bathroom in time to throw up.  


"No, it's not you, Barry," she assured him. Iris sighed and finally decided she could keep lying anymore. "I'm sorry. I can't do this anymore. I... have a confession."  


Barry's eyebrows wrinkled in confusion. "What?"  


"I hate mint chocolate ice cream," she said.  


"What?" Barry asked.  


"I hate mint chocolate ice cream. Like hate, hate it. I think it's disgusting and the taste is confusing and weird. I actually don't even like ice cream all that much," Iris added, a little frustrated.  


"But, you love mint chocolate chip," Barry told her.  


She shook her head sadly. "No. I don't."  


Barry's eyebrows scrunched together. "You and I split a pint of mint ice cream twice a year, every year on our birthdays," Barry reminded her in total confusion. “I’m pretty sure that tradition was _your_ idea.”  


Iris sighed and grabbed his hand. "When we were younger, when we'd go out for ice cream with your parents every Sunday, you would get mint chocolate ice cream and I would get a chocolate donut. Do you remember?"  


Barry nodded, not getting the connection.  


“And then for my birthday when you'd first come to live with us, I told my dad I wanted ice cream instead of birthday cake to try and cheer you up. And it worked! So... I kind of just kept up the tradition every year. I'd nibble down a bite or two and offer you the rest. And I'd order it when we went out cause I know it's your favorite," she shrugged. "And I've really tried these last two weeks, but I'm scared my organs are literally green. I'm sorry, Barry."

Barry blinked. Iris took in his stunned expression.

Then his two hands were framing her face, looking at her as if she were a marvel. "I love you, Iris. More than anything. More than anything in my life."  


And he kissed her deeply and slowly and, in the span of the kiss, tried for the umpteenth time to understand how someone so perfect could ever love him so fully and selflessly.  


Iris broke away first, smiling. She was glad he wasn't upset, although when she really thought about it, she didn't know why he would be.  


In keeping up her elaborate ruse into adulthood, she forgot to remember that her 10-year old self probably put unnecessary weight and fear on what could end a friendship.  


Differing choices in dessert being one of them.  


"So every year on our birthdays?" Barry asked.  


"I pick out a scary movie or a tear jerker then tell you I'm too scared or too sad to eat," Iris revealed, sitting on top of the bathroom counter.  


"Oh God, in high school when you had to stop cheerleading because of your ACL and I spent every day in your room watching The Hills and eating ice cream sandwiches trying to cheer you up," he suddenly remembered, now feeling horrible.  


Barry literally saw Iris beautiful brown skin turn a sick green for a split second.  


"Blech," she shuddered. "The sandwiches were even worse."  


"Huh," Barry mused. He was completely fascinated by this revelation. Someone finding out that his wife actually didn't enjoy something he thought she did obviously wouldn't be a big deal to most people.  


But, most people didn't grow up with their wives. Didn't supposedly know every single thing about them long before they even got together. They didn't build decades-long traditions that were elaborately maintained by someone who was unfathomably selfless and loving and kind.  


"And now you've made yourself sick over it," Barry chided softly. He brushed a strand of hair behind her ear.  


"I'm usually able to fake it, but this time my body's just _not_ havin' it. I think my stomach's finally telling me to fuck off," she joked.

"Well I'll just stick to finishing all that ice cream. You won't have to look at it again," Barry offered, kissing her cheek.

"Deal," she agreed.

“Is there anything else you’re hiding from me?” Barry asked, curious after a minute.  


Iris’s eyes got comically wide as she hopped off the counter and moved Barry aside. “I gotta go,” she laughed over her shoulder, rushing out of the bathroom.  


And Barry hurried after her, relishing in her giggles and only managing a brief grab as his fingertips tickled her sides.  


He chased her into the living room, determined to get to the bottom of this.

 

"Babe?" Barry whispered late the next night in bed.  


"Yeah?" Iris said groggily. She had almost been asleep.  


"I have a confession to make too," Barry told her slowly.  


“Hmm?”  


He took a deep breath. "I follow Lauren Conrad on Instagram,” he confessed. “And... I sometimes watch re-runs of the show when it’s on."  


And even though his ears were a very deep red, Barry didn't stop Iris from turning on their lamp once she finally stopped laughing long enough to sit up.  


“I _knew_ it! I knew you loved that show, Barry! You tried to hide it, but I could tell you were full of crap,” Iris gloated gleefully.  


“Okay I didn’t ‘love’ it. I just- it was entertaining, I guess. And it’s nice to watch once in a while for nostalgia, I don’t know.” He defended weakly.  


“Oh, whatever,” Iris laughed, hitting his chest. “You loved it.”  


Barry smiled at the pure glee on her face, but his own face was still hot with embarrassment.  


"Well then. Can we finally have an actual discussion about how Lauren should’ve gone to Paris the first time?!” Iris asked in excitement.

 

_~Discoveries~_

Iris couldn't figure out how a day that had started with such happiness had turned into this.  


With her sitting next to Barry in a hospital bed, praying to God that he would open his eyes or even move a finger.  


She'd been at home making dinner when her dad called, saying there'd been an accident at work and that Barry was badly hurt.  


And he should've been rapidly healing. _Why wasn't he rapidly healing?_  


Barry had faced down homicidal speedsters, talking mutant sharks, a _freaking telepathic gorilla_. Would it really be a totally human freak accident that does him in?  


No.  


She couldn't think like that. He was going to be just fine. She needed him to be him to be fine.  


She needed him.  


But, it’d been over seven hours and he was so still.  


Iris’s eyes filled with tears again and she squeezed his hand, praying that he would wake up and be okay.  


"Hey. Why are you crying?”  


Iris gasped and shot up quickly, hovering over Barry's side, looking into his beautiful green eyes.  


"You're awake," she breathed tearfully. 

He nodded. He flashed her a soft smile and Iris all but collapsed on his chest. She felt the fear that'd wrapped itself around her for the past few hours dissipate almost immediately.  


Barry wrapped his arms around her tightly and she had to berate herself to stop sobbing.  


"Iris, I'm okay. I'm fine, it's okay,” Barry comforted.  


"I'm sorry," she said, wiping her eyes. "You just... took your time to waking up," she chided jokingly. She touched his cheek lovingly and sat back in her chair beside him.  


"I guess I didn’t realize how tired I was," Barry joked and Iris gave a relieved laugh.  


But, he entwined their hands and said seriously. “I’m okay.”  


"Are you sure?" Iris asked.  


"Yeah, I'm okay," he repeated, wiping the stray tears on her cheeks.  


And with his soft hands on her face, his impossibly green eyes, the _love_ looking back at her- she couldn’t keep in what she’d been waiting to tell him since she’d found out that morning.  


"I'm pregnant," she blurted out.  


Barry's eyes grew twice in size. "What? You're..."  


"Pregnant," she finished. "I took a test this morning and I was gonna tell you at dinner, but..."  


She trailed off and peeked at Barry through her eyelashes. His eyes were suddenly glistening and his mouth opened and closed as if he wanted to speak, but couldn’t. So he just pulled Iris up to his chest, holding her so tightly, she might’ve complained if she weren’t holding him just as tight.  


And then they were both laughing with unbridled joy and misty eyes.  


"I love you,” Barry said in her ear. “I love you so much, Iris."  


"I love you, too."  


Barry finally pulled back. “We’re having a baby,” he said in disbelief. He was smiling so widely, he felt like his face would break in two.  


Iris smiled brightly. “We’re having a baby.”  


"Which explains the mood swings I've been having. And the sore boobs," She said thoughtfully.  


"And the puking too, I guess," Barry realized.  


"Yeah!" She agreed. "I guess it wasn't all the ice cream after all. I gave up my secret for nothing."  


Barry chuckled and moved over and Iris sat in bed with him, leaning her head on his shoulder.  


“How are you feeling?” he asked her softly.  


“I’m good. Perfect now that you’re up,” she said.  


Barry nodded and they fell into a comfortable silence, basking in what felt like a dream.  


Until Barry glanced to his left and was actually scared that that was in fact where he was.  


"Am I in some kind of never ending dream?” He asked Iris apprehensively. “What is that doing here?"  


Iris looked over at whatever Barry was pointing at and saw a half-melted pint of Empower Mint ice cream sitting on the bed side table.  


"Would you even believe me if I told you that, between all the black eyes and raw knuckles you got fighting metas this week, there were no ice packs left in the Med Bay?" Iris asked, laughing in her own disbelief. "The pints of ice cream were the only things in the freezer we could use to try and reduce the swelling on your head."  


Barry shook his head. "No, I wouldn't believe you. That's too much."  


"Fair enough," Iris laughed, and she kissed him.  


When they broke apart she rested her head on his shoulder again. "Barry?"  


"Yeah?" he asked.  


"I know that that's your favorite flavored ice cream, but we've got to figure out a new game-plan for the next 60 or 70 birthdays, because I'm pretty sure if I see it anywhere near our house again, I'm going to lose my mind."  


“I’ll throw out every carton we have left as soon as we get home,” Barry promised immediately.  


Iris let out a huge sigh of relief.  


“Thank you.”

 


End file.
